Drabble: Lucky
Written for
harrysmom
Pairing: Fred/Angelina
Rating NC17
Word Count: 302
Why do I love her? Well, who couldn't, really?
She never lets me get away with my bullshite, does she? She sees through all of my carefully practiced charm and my false bravado and likes me in spite of it. And, better yet, she is always the first to laugh at my jokes. She sees me, more clearly than anyone else does, perhaps even George. She's seen me at my worst; rank and sweaty from the game, humiliated by defeat. Somehow, though, with a pat on the back (or bum) and a kiss on the cheek, she always made the most embarrassing victory seem like a hero's trial--something to be proud of.
Hers was the face that I looked for when I mounted my broom, leaving Hogwarts for the last time. Her nod of approval was all I needed, and her eyes held promise, more promise than I'd ever hoped for.
She made me wait for her though; she made me prove my stability and maturity, but hell, was she ever worth the wait. To have gained her trust, her admiration, her love, was the best thing I'd ever done.
But those weren't my only rewards, not hardly, To have those strong thighs wrapped around me, to see her beautiful skin presented as a feast for my senses, and oh, fuck, those magnificent tits of hers--large enough to leave me incoherent with lust, even when I noticed them as a twelve-year-old boy, bouncing during practice.
But to have them in my face, while her body slides over mine, is more than I ever hoped for. She sits on my lap, crying out, reduced to her most primal self, with her face contorted with pleasure, and I am in awe. I 'm certain that I am the luckiest sod on earth.
harrysmom
Pairing: Fred/Angelina
Rating NC17
Word Count: 302
Why do I love her? Well, who couldn't, really?
She never lets me get away with my bullshite, does she? She sees through all of my carefully practiced charm and my false bravado and likes me in spite of it. And, better yet, she is always the first to laugh at my jokes. She sees me, more clearly than anyone else does, perhaps even George. She's seen me at my worst; rank and sweaty from the game, humiliated by defeat. Somehow, though, with a pat on the back (or bum) and a kiss on the cheek, she always made the most embarrassing victory seem like a hero's trial--something to be proud of.
Hers was the face that I looked for when I mounted my broom, leaving Hogwarts for the last time. Her nod of approval was all I needed, and her eyes held promise, more promise than I'd ever hoped for.
She made me wait for her though; she made me prove my stability and maturity, but hell, was she ever worth the wait. To have gained her trust, her admiration, her love, was the best thing I'd ever done.
But those weren't my only rewards, not hardly, To have those strong thighs wrapped around me, to see her beautiful skin presented as a feast for my senses, and oh, fuck, those magnificent tits of hers--large enough to leave me incoherent with lust, even when I noticed them as a twelve-year-old boy, bouncing during practice.
But to have them in my face, while her body slides over mine, is more than I ever hoped for. She sits on my lap, crying out, reduced to her most primal self, with her face contorted with pleasure, and I am in awe. I 'm certain that I am the luckiest sod on earth.